Alabama

Joseph Conrad's 'Typhoon' shows power of storm

Emerald surf crashing below, southerly wind billowing white sheers through sliding glass doors, and a volume of Joseph Conrad open on my lap made for a perfect recent afternoon at the beach. Sea stories are always called for in such circumstances, though one has to be careful with Conrad, as his vision and revelations are sometimes too unsettling to be considered diverting or relaxing. But there were no such concerns with the tale I had chosen this afternoon, “Typhoon” (Oxford, paper, $9.95), a classic character study of men against the elements that reads like high adventure.

The Polish-born Conrad knew whereof he wrote, of course, having spent almost 20 years knocking about the world on steamers in all weathers and amongst all races and manners of people. Perhaps the most astonishing aspect of his story is that he didn’t learn English until he was in his 20s — and then at first it was the salty dialogue of his mates — and didn’t write a word for publication until he was 35. Yet his masterful prose style and powerful insight quickly garnered him an impressive array of literary advocates, including H. G. Wells, Ford Madox Ford and, to a degree, the fastidious Henry James, who could only fantasize about the wild scenes Conrad had witnessed in his travels.

“Typhoon” was initially serialized in the British magazine Pall Mall between January and March 1902, and shortly thereafter Conrad bundled it with several other short stories as a book. Critical reaction was positive, though most scholars now firmly place “Heart of Darkness,” “Lord Jim,” “The Secret Sharer” and “The Secret Agent” far above it. Still, as a rollicking sea yarn, “Typhoon” has few equals, and undergirding its narrative drive are deeper themes that raise compelling questions about the nature and usefulness of intelligence and imagination in extreme crisis.

The novel concerns the Nan-Shan, a Siamese-flagged steamer in the South China Sea, commanded by the taciturn, literal and dullish Tom MacWhirr — “Having just enough imagination to carry him through each successive day” — and headed straight into the teeth of a monstrous typhoon. Aboard are an all-white crew, including a young and excitable first mate, Mr. Jukes, a second mate of doubtful nerve and a highly competent chief engineer, Solomon Rout. Also aboard are 200 Chinese laborers, returning home with seven years’ wages stowed in their camphor-wood chests.

As the air thickens, clouds gather, swells build and the barometer begins to fall alarmingly, Jukes urges his captain to steer around the storm, to the latter’s incredulity. “If I didn’t know you, Jukes, I would think you were in liquor. Steer four points off ... . And what afterwards? Steer four points the other way, I suppose, to make the course good. What put it into your head that I would start to tack a steamer as if she were a sailing ship?” And so the helpless crew and their human cargo plunge into the storm’s fury. Throughout the tempest, MacWhirr keeps the deck, hanging on for dear life in the pitch-black night, as the rain, wind and waves buffet the ship. His shouted instructions are carried away before they can reach the ears of his desperately struggling men, and Jukes is convinced they will all be lost.

As if things aren’t dicey enough, a messenger informs the captain that the Chinese, quartered beneath the foredeck, are all tangled together in a wild fight over their earnings, which have tumbled out of the smashed camphor chests. MacWhirr sends the horrified Jukes and some seamen to restore order and, incredibly, to recover all the coins so that they may be fairly redistributed later. Remaining on deck, MacWhirr clobbers the blithering second mate and orders the ship held into the storm.

Despite the reservations and fears of Jukes and the crew, MacWhirr’s stolid presence of mind and unbending conviction to stay the course prove their salvation. No one dies, and the ship comes through, albeit much battered. The Chinese workers re-collect their wages without the riot Jukes feared, and all are satisfied with MacWhirr’s handling of the matter. Writing to a friend of the captain’s handling of their trials, Jukes marvels, “I think that he got out of it very well for such a stupid man.” But as MacWhirr tells Jukes, “There are things you find nothing about in books.” Conrad’s genius was to capture more than a few such conundrums and to deliver them up in clear and beautiful English.

John Sledge edits the Press-Register’s Books page. He may be reached at the Press-Register, P.O. Box 2488, Mobile, AL 36652.